


A Bad Night

by myladyriver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mornings, reference to past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:09:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myladyriver/pseuds/myladyriver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, and yet you lie here and speak words of love and protection,” Bellatrix rasped. “Why?” Bella supposed she ought to have asked Hermione this long ago, yet she had never been able to bring herself to. If she were being honest with herself, it was because she was absolutely terrified of what Hermione would realize if she allowed herself to wonder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bad Night

Hermione’s flushed body lay between Bellatrix’s bare legs, warming Bella’s naturally cool skin. Despite their positions, they were practicing something as simple as sleep, both women exhausted from a long night. Bellatrix’s legs were bent at the knees, loosely parted to accommodate Hermione’s slender body. The younger woman sighed contentedly, her face comfortably pillowed by Bella’s diaphragm. Bellatrix shifted slightly as she awoke, nudging Hermione gently as she hooked one foot around her partner’s calf. Understanding Bella’s unspoken, half-conscious desire, an awakening Hermione cocooned the older witch’s upper body in her arms; she tucked one hand tucked into Bellatrix’s side, curled fingers brushing against the swell of Bella’s breast, and stretched the other hand up to drape over a macilent shoulder.

Hermione stretched carefully, exhaling a heavy breath of sleep against Bella’s abdomen as her joints popped and muscles twinged. She raised herself up slightly, her tangled chestnut tresses tumbling around her shoulders as she gazed pensively up at her lover. A small smile made an appearance in Hermione’s hazel eyes when she saw Bellatrix open her eyes, and she silently greeted her partner by ducking her head and dropping a gentle kiss on Bellatrix’s belly.

“Was it a bad night, then?” Bellatrix asked quietly, her voice hoarse. She cleared her throat self-consciously, averting her gaze from her young paramour, having realized the answer. Hermione smiled sadly, shaped one hand to Bella’s face, stroking her cheek with her thumb. Bellatrix was silent; her only response was to lift a hand to cup the back of Hermione’s head. It was several minutes before she found the courage to speak.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t apologize, Bella,” Hermione murmured fiercely, her fingers tightening on Bellatrix’s shoulder in a bracing grip. “Not for this.” Her voice cracked, betraying the deep sorrow behind her words. She pushed herself up further, in order to see more of Bellatrix. Hermione gazed intently down at her Bella, at the black slip that fell over familiar dips and curves, and the soft, scarred, porcelain skin that was exposed. She saw _so many things_ when she looked at this woman, and while not all of them were decent and good, none of them meant she should apologize for suffering from recurring nightmares about being tortured as a child.

“I love you,” Hermione promised, burying her face in the curve of Bellatrix’s neck as she settled back down onto her. “I love you even more than they hurt you, and I swear, Bella, they never will again. No one, not ever.” 

“I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you, and yet you lie here and speak words of love and protection,” Bellatrix rasped. “Why?” Bella supposed she ought to have asked Hermione this long ago, yet she had never been able to bring herself to. If she were being honest with herself, it was because she was absolutely terrified of what Hermione would realize if she allowed herself to wonder.

Hermione sighed, and gazed down at her lover with heartache in her ancient eyes.

“I’ve been fighting a war since I was eleven years old when I helped keep You-Know-Who from returning. When I was fifteen, I helped build a secret army right under Dolores Umbrage's nose, and she tortured all the students involved for information about it. I was stuck in a tent with Ron and Harry for year, living off only what we could scavenge while we hunted down bits of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s soul. I’ve faced death and battled for my life and for the lives of others. Sweetie, you’ve left your fair share of scars and nightmares, to be sure. But my dear Bellatrix, do you really think you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to me?” Her words hung in the silence between them for an immeasurable amount of time. It was a long while before Bella spoke.

“I don’t understand what it is you see in me, but I do know I’m yours. Whatever’s left of me now, all the broken pieces that fit poorly to make the macabre puzzle of Bellatrix Black. _Yours._ Because as improbable as it may be, I love you, too. With every part of me, I love you. And to be honest, I don’t understand that, either. But when I’m with you, I’m the best I’ve ever been.”


End file.
